A friend with benefits

Liz is a friend with benefits, emphasis on the benefits. You two met last fall at the gym you share and quickly fell into a comfortable pattern of flirtation and spotting. She’s a year older than you and used to complete at track and field back in college. She still takes her workouts seriously and has really helped you with your form as well. Her well toned body and bubbly personality have plenty of people mistaking her for a full time fitness influencer. But from 9-5 she’s actually in modest skirts and blazers pushing papers around in an office tower downtown.

Every couple of months one of you will text the other with just enough pretext to get together and share a few drinks. Sometimes this involves a public outing that could be called a date if either of you wanted to put that label on it. Other times it’s Netflix and chill. Either way you both eventually get turned on, get naked, and fuck all night. It doesn’t hurt that her building is only a couple blocks away from yours. If Liz is calling you just before dinner time on Friday then maybe your plans for the weekend are already decided.

Though usually she’d text first to see what you’re up to. A phone call might mean she has something else on her mind.

You answer, “Hello,” in a warm tone. You don’t want to come on too strong in case this has nothing to do with her firm, round ass.

“Hi Connor, are you home now? I didn’t catch you at a bad time did I?” Her voice is kind and inviting. But it isn’t as relaxed as usual.

“Yes. And no. That is, yes I’m home, and no it isn’t a bad time to talk. Certainly not if it’s talking to you.” You turn around and sit on the end of your bed.

“You charmer, always smooth as silk. I have to be quick but I wanted to ask you for a favour. And I wanted to ask before you headed out for the night because... well, I know it’s last minute but are you free tomorrow afternoon? I need your help for about an hour.”

“Only an hour? Sure, if you only want to go a couple rounds,” you tease her.

“Not like that!” she laughs in a way that carries a hint of desire.

“Okay, like what then?”

“Like a rehearsal.”

“Rehearsal?” That’s out of the ordinary. Liz has never been a performing arts kinda girl.

“Yes. I decided to try something completely new before I turn 25 so I signed up for this performance night and I trust your opinion so I want to do the routine in front of you and then get your feedback,” her words are tumbling out quickly. “Look, my ride is almost here and I’m literally running out the door. It would be one hour at my place for the next three Saturdays. Can you do this for me, Connor?”

You take a deep breath in as you consider whether or not to commit to helping her.